


Clusters of Stars

by Hazzalovescarrots



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bad Boy Harry, Bottom Louis, Frat boy too, M/M, Punk Harry, Younger Louis, sort of slut louis, you guys should know by now that i scuk at tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzalovescarrots/pseuds/Hazzalovescarrots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis doesn't have the best history with guys. When Harry shows up, totally different and covered in tattoos, things change. Liam and Zayn don't really approve but it's none of their business ey?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clusters of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> The Irish anthem I mention goes like this if i'm not completely wrong,   
> Soldiers we are   
> whose lives are pledged to Ireland

“You’re an idiot.”

   “Aw, don’t be like that,” Niall says back, draping an arm across Louis’ stomach. “Sure, Tom can be a jerk sometimes, but he’s a nice guy, I swear.”

   “I’m not going on a blind date with some guy you met at a bar,” Louis scoffs. He is lying on the floor of Niall’s living room. Red cups, confetti and bottles are strewn on the floor. People are asleep on and in various places in the house. Niall’s parents are away at some friends’ from work and that left the house free for a party. The lad has always been known for the parties that he throws. Must be that Irish blood.

   “I didn’t meet him at a bar, okay? He’s my brother’s mate. He goes to university, Lou. He’s a _swimmer.”_

   That brightens Louis’ mood, slightly. “A swimmer, you say?”

   “Yep,” Niall grins and pokes him in the side, which makes him squirm. “Dark hair, nice smile, abs to die for; all the nice perks of Tom.” Even though the boy is being very convincing, Louis still isn’t sure. His relationships haven’t exactly had the best outcomes and neither have they given him the best reputation. Louis is known in the school as gay and a little bit of a slut. But, that’s where everyone is mistaken.

   Sure, he’s gay but not the slut they all think he is. In every single one of those relationships, he hadn’t been the one to break it off. With Zayn, the dark and mysterious one, he had met another girl named Perrie, so that didn’t last long. With Liam, the strong and muscly one, it just didn’t work out because Louis was too much of a ‘party boy’. With Greg, the tall and funny one, the guy had wanted to focus on his radio station and moved to London. Apparently, Greg wasn’t much for long distant relationships. Louis had even tried with Niall, but they just ended up treating each other like brothers, even after taking it all to the ‘sexual level’.

   The funny thing is, is that almost all of these boys are his best friends today. They are all in senior year in high school, except Greg, of course. Zayn and Perrie are like the bloody power couple of the school, along with Liam and Sophia, which Louis takes as quite an insult, wondering if he was the one who turned his friends straight. Niall is just his regular self, ridiculously happy and cute all the time.

   “Fine, one date,” Louis says and rolls to tuck his face into Niall’s neck and sleep.

***

“I’m so hung-over, man,” Zayn comments, arm slung over Perrie’s shoulder, rubbing his temples with his thumb and index finger. All six of them are in a ring between Liam’s and Louis’ cars, leaning on each other and the metal doors of the vehicles. Louis is tucked into the sides of Perrie and Niall, yawning and hiding his hands in the sleeves of his sweater.

   “We all are. Don’t whine about it,” Louis mutters into the girl’s shoulder, who nudges him away for insulting her boyfriend. He weakly protests, clutching his head and softly apologizing. He is about to lean onto Niall’s shoulder, but the boy’s Irish accent interrupts.

   “Hey, who’s that?”

   Louis raises his chin and looks to the direction where Niall’s gaze is pointed. A group of three is perched over by the stairs leading up to the football pitch. Two of them are smoking. The other is splayed out on the cement staircase. Louis winces and thinks that that can’t really be comfortable. He can’t see the boy’s face or anything of him since he is lying down.

   The guy smoking is wearing this horrible and tacky flower print shirt, along with shorts of the same fabric. His hair is up in a tall quiff and his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses. The girl, also smoking, is sitting on the metal banister lining the staircase. Her hair is ash blond, almost going over into a pale purple colour. She has a rip in her jeans and a few tattoos on her arms. She grimaces at the boy on the ground, like he’s made a terrible joke. When he sits up, grinning, Louis breathes in a little.

   He is covered in tattoos. They swirl up his arms and around his wrists, all in black. His lip and eyebrow are pierced with black studs and when he sticks his tongue out at the girl on the banister, Louis can see he has one there, too. His hair, chocolate brown and curly, sticks out of a gray beanie and Louis kind of wants to run his hands through it. Just experimentally, of course, to see if it is as soft as it looks.

   “Dunno, never seen them before,” Louis says slowly, as he lets his eyes wander up the length of his body and the muscles in his back as they tense. The boy has really long legs, Louis notices.

   “I know the guy in that weird shirt,” Liam says. Louis tilts his head to side in question. “Yeah, he worked with Greg at that radio station, remember?”

   “Oh yeah,” Louis answers absentmindedly. He remembers that the guy was kind of a jerk. “Nick, right?” Liam hums in confirmation. Just as Louis’ gaze connects with the boy’s, he gasps slightly and is tucked under Niall’s arm.

   “Come on, kiddo, let’s get inside.”

   Louis keeps his eyes locked with the boy’s, watching the amused look on his face, but has to turn away when the doors of the school close behind him.

 

That isn’t the only time Louis sees him that week, nor is it the last. During football practice the next day, the group of three are on the actual bleachers now, not slumped on the stairs. Nick is smoking again, but the girl and Curly (Louis came up with the nickname himself. He’s proud) are just leaning back, enjoying the sun.

   Niall is currently in a head-lock, Zayn keeping a firm grip on his neck. Louis laughs as he passes the ball over to Liam, who passes it back. He aims the football, kicks it and it flies with precision into the net. He hears an appreciative whistle come from the bleachers and sees Curly grinning, the sun glinting off of his sunglasses. Louis can’t help the blush that instinctively spreads across his cheeks and he turns back to accept another pass from Liam. Trying to break up the wrestling match Zayn and Niall are having, he kicks it at them, hitting Niall in the back.

   “Oi, yer bastard!” Niall’s accent comes through even more clearly and he lunges at Louis, who goes wide-eyed and tries to turn away. The others tackle him to the ground, piling on top of him, shouting and yelling like crazy. They wrestle around, Louis struggling underneath them all and he can swear that he hears Curly’s deep chuckle in the background.

   “Get off me!” Louis exclaims, laughing and rolling onto his stomach and crawling away but Niall grabs his foot and drags him back. In retaliation, Louis does the only thing he can think of. “Y’know, this reminds me of a very compromising position you and I were in, not so long ago, Nialler.”

   Niall breaks down in laughter and pinches him in the side before detaching himself of Zayn and Liam and getting up. “Good times, ey, Lou-Lou.”

   “Oh, sod off,” He says as he gets up and brushes himself off. He catches the coach shaking his head at them, humoured. He glances up to where Curly is sitting, eyebrows raised, mouth twisted to the side and arms crossed. Louis chuckles and goes back to kicking footballs at the net of the goal.

   During the whole practice, Curly sits in the bleachers and watches as he does drills, dribbling the ball in-between his feet. Louis receives whistles as he takes his jersey off to reveal the tight black spandex of his undershirt, which clings to his frame. He realizes, though, that this time, it didn’t come from Curly. It came from Nick. When Louis scoffs, rolls his eyes and grimaces, he can hear Curly and the girl laugh loudly.

   The third time Louis sees Curly, it is at Zayn and Liam’s party on the Friday.

***

It is so fucking loud. The music at the party is thumping and Louis feels like it is making his heart jump around. He clutches a cup of a mix of he doesn’t even know what. Niall is next to him, leaning against the wall, knocking back drink after drink. Damn that Irish boy. Zayn is surely in some corner somewhere, making out with his girlfriend and Liam is in the kitchen, helping Sophia mix drinks.

   “I’m going to go…” The rest Niall just slurs in his ear and Louis nods, pretending like he heard. The boy stumbles off down a hallway and Louis is left alone. He sips on his drink and over the red rim of it he sees familiar curly hair and tattoos. He is watching him from the other side of the living room, which has been turned into a dance floor. Curly has a cup, too and he smirks at Louis over the edge of it.

   Louis clears his throat roughly and feels the blush rise to his cheeks as he attempts to avoid his gaze, which is currently travelling down his body. He awkwardly shifts his feet and mentally curses himself. He had never been like this with another boy, so what the hell is going on?

   _Damn it,_ Louis thinks. _One of the hottest boys I’ve ever seen is looking at me and all I can do is awkwardly shift around. Come on, Tommo. You know how to be sexy._

   Just as he is about to look up and move over, a body crowds him, a hand setting up by his head, braced on the wall. Louis gasps and lifts his chin. In front of him is Curly. His tattoos shine through the material of his white t-shirt and Louis can see them twining the arm by his head.

   “Hi,” Louis says weakly and internally rolls his eyes. The taller boy just scoffs and moves in closer, making him take in a sharp breath.

   “Hi, pretty boy,” The boy responds and Louis gulps as he looks right into his green eyes that glint cheekily in the backlight. His voice is deep and slow and sends a rush through Louis.  “Wanna dance?”

   Louis doesn’t trust his voice so he just nods. Curly laughs and takes his cup from him, taking a long drink as the shorter of the two watches his Adam’s apple bob. He sets the cups down on the floor and takes Louis’ hand in his, guiding him to the makeshift dance floor.

    “Oh god,” Louis sighs when he pulls him in close and sets his lips to his neck. Tingles run up his back as Curly breathes in his ear, hot and heavy. He moans when he grinds their hips together. He thinks it’s ridiculous that he feels as shy as he does. He used to be the one to tease and he used to have that cheeky smile in the dark.

   _To hell with this,_ Louis thinks. _Come on now, Tommo._

   He smirks slyly and turns around to grind back on him. Tattooed arms wind around his waist and a deep groan sounds in his ear. He moves with the agility and grace he is known for and of course his arse helps. Apparently, Curly thinks the same as he moves his hands over Louis’ hips, thighs and travelling to the curve of his shoulders and lower back.

   “Jeesus, pretty boy, your body,” He mumbles and drapes himself completely over the smaller boy, touching him as much as possible. He presses a small kiss just below his ear and Louis’ moans in response at the feel of metal grazing his skin.

   “What’s your name?” He asks just because he has to know. He reaches behind himself to thread his fingers in the boy’s curls.

   “Harry,” He mumbles and Louis tries to hold his grin inside. He doesn’t say his own name, just turns around, placing a hand on Harry’s neck and pulling him in. Their lips crash together and it isn’t at all as clumsy as Louis expected it to be, but quite the opposite. Harry’s lips move and mold to his and they keep up the frantic pace as that of their bodies as they twist their hips to the beat. The taller boy sets his hands on Louis’ hips and pull him in repeatedly, moving with his own.

   Louis moans out when he feels Harry hard against him. He leans his head on Harry’s shoulder and traces his lips along the line of his jaw, nibbling a little on the way. He reaches up to twine his fingers in his curls and he tugs harshly, making him let out a strangled noise as he continues along his jaw down to his neck, sucking marks in his skin.

   Louis is just ready to drag Harry into a room somewhere and do unmentionable things, but he is stopped by someone tapping his shoulder. He hears Harry huff and try to pull him closer, glaring at the person who dared interrupt them.

   “Hey, Niall is pissed and he wants you to take him home,” Liam says behind him. Louis groans out like a child.

   “Why can’t you take him?”

   “Because Zayn’s gone, it’s his house and I can’t leave it unsupervised,” Liam says and damn him for being the responsible one.        

   “Well, It didn’t seem to bother you when you were snogging Sophia a minute ago,” Louis retorts lamely, curling his fingers in Harry’s t-shirt.

   “Zayn wasn’t gone, then. Just take him home.”

   Louis wants to sob as he looks up into Harry’s almost feral eyes. He stumbles back and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He swallows hard and follows Liam to find Niall, not looking back, even though he can feel Harry’s gaze digging into his back. Yep, fuck everything.

***

Louis hasn’t seen Harry in three days. He can’t help but look around when he goes places with his friends and everywhere he goes he looks for familiar curls and inked skin. Both Liam and Zayn glance at him disapprovingly as he does, nudging him in the shoulder and frowning. Niall seems to be oblivious, though, still trying to set Louis up with Tom the swimmer. But Louis doesn’t want Tom. He wants Harry.

   “Hey, Lou-Lou,” Niall says, waving a hand in front of his face, distracting him. Louis jumps, clutching his paper mug tightly, making the hot tea sway up to the edges. They sit at the local café, only the two boys. They sit on opposite sides of the booth, Niall facing the doors and Louis’s body turned the other way.

   Louis has been distracted ever since he met Harry at that party. He can’t stop thinking about the tattooed arms around him, the metal lip ring brushing against his neck, the tickle of brown curls, the run of a deep and dark voice in his ear or the slow intimate grind of their hips. He gets stuck in his thoughts and stares at the table, completely blanking out.

   “Louis!”

   Said boy jerks and blinks rapidly. He shakes himself out of it and hums at Niall, taking a sip of his tea. He pulls the sleeves of his jacket over his hands and settles back against the cushions of the sofa.

   “Are you alright?”

   Louis frowns at him. “Yeah, m’fine. Just thinking.”

   “Obviously,” Niall scoffs and Louis makes a face at him. “What were you thinking about? That guy you met last Friday?”

He freezes and hesitates. He wonders briefly how he knew, but the Irish boy answers before he’s even said the question. “Liam told me. He says you’ve been awfully distracted lately. And that this ‘Harry’ bloke didn’t seem like a nice guy. All inked up and stuff.”

   “Ironic, innit?” Louis says, a little too harsh so he opts to stare down into his mug. “Since Liam has several tattoos himself. But, having too many just automatically makes Harry a bad guy.”

   Niall shakes his head and leans forward a bit. “That’s not it, though. Liam said there was this look in his eyes. He looked dangerous. He gave off a bad vibe, I guess.”

   “Well, he seemed nice enough to me,” Louis retorts, even though he barely spent ten minutes with him.

   “What’d you see in him anyways?” Niall asks, but more curious than judging. “He’s so different from all the other guys you’ve dated. He’s so different from you.”     

   Louis considers that a moment. He bites his lip before answering. “That’s the point, though. We aren’t even similar in one way, but I think that’s what makes it so appealing. It never worked out in all my other relationships because they weren’t what I was looking for. No offense.”

   “None taken, babe,” He scoffs. “If you like him, you should go for it and screw what the other boys say. I’m probably going to get so much shit for that, but whatever. I just want you to be happy, mate.”

   Louis smiles. “See, this is why I like you better.”

   “Also, because the others are straight and fancy wankers,” Niall laughs. He suddenly perks up and holds out a hand. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. My brother is hosting this party at his frat house on Saturday. It’s supposed to be like this huge rave thing. It’s destined to be awesome and we should go.”

   “You Horans and your bloody parties,” Louis says incredulously. “How do you do it? And more importantly, how are we going to get in?”

   The boy smashes his palms and rubs them together while smirking devilishly. “My brother is going to pick us up and then, party time. All day, all night.” Niall dances a bit to himself, pumping his hands up towards the ceiling and looking giddy.

   “Fine, you crazy dipshit,” Louis agrees, shaking his head amusedly. 

***

Niall’s brother isn’t there to pick him up. Instead, it’s Tom.

   Louis looks to Niall, disbelieving. He pinches him harshly and the boy yelps. “What? Look, even though you clearly won’t stop thinking about Harry, you need to get laid. It’s just for tonight.”

   Zayn and Liam didn’t come with, not risking their girlfriends off to university boys and also because they are whipped bitches who couldn’t leave their houses because ‘it’s time for movie night’. Bullshit. So, here the other two boys are, in the car of a very hot Tom Daley. Louis has to admit, he is pretty hot, with dark hair, tanned skin, a cute smile and muscular arms, but it’s not what he wants. He tries to imagine Tom’s arms holding him down by his hair and grinding him into the mattress but it just won’t work. Instead, the images change to sweaty curls and glinting green eyes and big hands clutching his hips hard enough to leave bruises.

   He shivers and pulls his black denim jacket around him. Tom asks him if he should turn the heating up, but Louis declines. He seems like a nice bloke, very sweet and kind and if Louis hadn’t met Harry, he probably would be dating him by tomorrow. But this is just a one-night thing, Louis reminds himself. He stays mostly silent throughout the journey, only allowing himself to speak when Niall is annoyingly prompting him to. Every time he turns to face the window, the boy reaches forward and pokes him in the neck, hissing that he didn’t push him to the front seat for nothing.

   Niall had basically been in control of this whole thing. He had pushed Louis into wearing his tightest white jeans, along with his wine-red scoop t-shirt that shows off his collarbones and new tattoo and his favorite black denim jacket. Basically, Niall was aiming for Louis to get laid tonight.

   When they arrive at the university, people are already passed out drunk on the front lawn. Upon seeing that, Niall claps his hands together and cheers. Even before he’s out of the car, he starts singing the Irish anthem.

   “Sinne Fianna Fáil!”

   ”A tá fé gheall ag Éirinn!” Niall’s brother answers and Louis clutches his head, feeling a headache coming on already. Tom comes up beside him and lays a hand on his shoulder, laughing.

   “You get over it. They do this every time they see each other. And then they turn up drunk afterwards. Quite a party man, your friend there.”

   “Yeah, trust me, I know. I’m the one who has to drag him home all the time,” Louis says, laughing. Tom squeezes his shoulder and backpedals towards the house.

   “Care for a drink?” He asks and Louis doesn’t hesitate to answer.

   “God yes.”

The frat house is packed with people grinding on each other and sucking face and Tom holds Louis’ forearm, navigating him through it. When the reach some sort of counter, Tom steps behind it and brings two cups from under it. He pours a few different liquids into each one after shaking them all together in a small metal container. He hands one cup to Louis who takes a small sip, to find that is actually tastes surprisingly good.

   Louis hums and when Tom comes back around, he pulls him in by his neck to shout over the music. “Thanks, mate!” Tom nods in acknowledgment and smiles. Strobe lights, hung from the ceiling, are shining rays straight through his hair and Louis can feel the beat of the music thump in his chest.

   “You wanna dance?” Tom shouts in his ear. Louis nods. What he doesn’t expect to happen on the dance floor, though, is that a tall guy walks up to Tom, winds his arms around him and places a kiss on his lips. They seem familiar with each other and Louis is going to kill Niall for not telling him he had a boyfriend. He ignores it however, because there are plenty of guys here.

   He ends up with his shirt off, surrounded by people and guys pressing close to him, girls, too, but he pays no mind to them. They pass him drinks which he chugs and tosses to the ground. Hands touch him everywhere and he just goes with it, pushing back into it. He twists his arms above his head and circles his hips in tantalizing ways and throws his head back.

   A body comes up behind him and drapes itself over his back. He is too out of it to even care, just in the zone and grinds back against the person holding him. Louis just closes his eyes and conjures up the image of another boy, of different, stronger arms around him, of a taller body behind him. His eyes fly open. He takes a deep breath and shudders. He disentangles himself from the guy and pushes his way back to the makeshift bar.

   He heaves in breaths and grabs a girl standing next to him, demanding she mix him a drink. She gets behind the counter, laughing and shakes around the metal container, pouring into a cup. She takes a beer from the fridge and sets it next to the cup. Louis looks up and gasps when he sees it is The Girl; the one Harry hung out with.

   “Hey, you’re…” He pauses, remembering that he doesn’t actually know her name. “Whatever your name is.”

   “And you’re Pretty Boy,” The girl says. Louis frowns and is about to ask her what she means but she interrupts him. “First take a sip from the cup, then swallow it down with the beer. You’ll be hung-over as hell, but it’s good.”

   Then, she leaves.

   “Hey…You!” Louis swiftly turns around to run after her, but is faced with a boy he knows well. It feels weird to see him in person, now, as he has imagined the shape and feel of him for days and it is all real so sudden and so fast. He stumbles back against the bar and Harry follows him. He presses right up to his body, ducking his head to speak into his ear.

   “The way you move is incredible.”

   Louis gulps and sets his hands on Harry’s arms, tracing the swirls and lines of tattoos. There is a rose on his elbow, a ship on his upper arm and a mess of birds and constellations, clusters of stars. Harry lays his cheek against Louis’ temple and braces one hand on the bar behind them. “I don’t like you dancing with others. Only with me.”

   “Didn’t know you were a frat boy,” Louis comments. Harry chuckles deeply.

   “I study music here.”

   “And you wear snapbacks,” Louis says, knocking one of his knuckles against the black frame of the one atop Harry’s head. “Very classy.”  

   Harry softly lets his palms run over the soft skin of Louis’ abdomen, collarbones and when he gently brushes over his sensitive nipples, the boy gasps and arches into it.

   “So responsive,” He mumbles and grabs Louis’ waist roughly. “Come upstairs with me.”    

   The shorter of the two moans and nods. Harry grins wickedly and takes his hand, dragging him after himself up the stairs and breaking off to the left to pull him inside a room. It is dark except for a light beside one of the beds. Harry backs him up against the wall beside the door and kisses him, hard. Louis melts under it and whimpers. That seems to spur Harry on as breaks away to suck on a spot just below Louis’ ear.

   “So beautiful,” He mutters and runs his thumbs over his sharp cheekbones and over his swollen lips. Louis hums and quickly reaches up to twist his fists into Harry’s curls, bringing him in for an everything-but-chaste kiss. He jumps up, relying on Harry to catch him, and wraps his legs around his waist. He rubs himself against the obvious bulge in Harry’s trousers and moans as it catches on his own. Harry lets his forehead fall to the crook of his neck and ruts back, raking his blunt nails over Louis’ nipples. The boy cries out in response.

   Harry carries him over to the bed, thoroughly kneading his arse on the way. He lays him on the edge and pulls his t-shirt off, knocking the snapback off simultaneously, but Louis isn’t having it.

   “Put it back on,” He demands. Harry raises his eyebrows.

   “So, you did like it.”

   “Oh, shut it,” Louis says and hooks his fingers in the belt loops of Harry’s tight jeans, while the boy shoves the snapback down over his curls again, twisting it so it faces backwards. He unbuttons them and yanks them down. Harry helps by wiggling them off and kicking them over the other side of the bed. Louis palms over the tent in his boxers and blinks rapidly. “Jeesus, Harry. You…you’re big. Like really…”

   Harry hums and nips his jaw. “Aw, you noticed.”

   Louis hits him over the head. “I want you in my mouth. Now.” That seemed to shut Harry up as the boy stutters and fumbles.

   “Y-yeah…sure,” Harry clears his throat and drags his boxers down his legs, while Louis moves up to the pillows. He straddles Louis’ chest and slowly feeds his length into his mouth inch by inch. He watches the boy’s lips stretch sinfully around his cock and he moans. He grabs the headboard and rocks into the wet heat surrounding him. He sighs and lets his head fall back, cupping Louis’ face, feeling the suctioned-in cheeks. “God, your mouth. So good, babe.”

   He cradles Louis’ head and pulls his head closer. “You can take it deeper. Come on.” Louis doesn’t even protest. He just grabs Harry’s hips and works him in the back of his throat until he slides down those few millimeters left. Harry moans brokenly and breathes heavily as he rests his head on his arm and looks down at his cock deep in Louis’ mouth. He can’t believe someone can take him this deep. Louis, though, has had practice. He’s been with several guys in the past; he has a reputation for a reason and every time, he has found that he loves sucking cock.

   “Fuck, you just…” Harry is apparently speechless. He fists a hand in Louis’ hair and inches out before rocking back in. the suction this boy has is unbelievable and so intense, his body shudders and he moans repeatedly. He backs off, letting the shorter boy breathe and Louis’ head slumps back on the pillow, breath ragged and his throat wrecked. His lips are so swollen and red and Harry moves to kiss him softly, running his hands down to unzip his trousers, pulling them off, along with his boxers. He marvels at the soft yet firm skin of his thighs and the prominent bones of his hips and the thick length of his cock, which is red and throbbing with arousal. He has never really met anyone who has gotten so turned on just from sucking someone’s cock before.

   “Fuck me,” Louis’ voice comes from above, husky and raspy. “Just please, fuck me.”

   Harry sighs heavily, letting his breath wash over the head of his cock, making it twitch. Louis whimpers and makes grabby hands at him. Harry won’t have it. He takes a harsh grip on his wrists and holds them down. “You do what I tell you. Alright, Pretty Boy?” Louis nods weakly and when Harry releases his wrists, he keeps them there obediently. Triumphant, Harry smirks and latches onto one of Louis’ nipples roughly. He bucks in response and cries out. His hands twist in the sheets and his hips writhe from side to side. Harry clamps down on his hipbones and keeps attacking the hardened tips. He rubs over them with his tongue piercing, causing Louis to sob. He nibbles on them until they are red and sore and Louis has tears running down his cheeks.

   “Harry, please.”

   Said boy hums and runs his open palms over Louis’ flushed skin. He looks positively ruined and Harry isn’t done with him yet. He reaches into the bedside drawer and brings out a bottle of lube and rips a condom from the pack. At the pop of the cap of the bottle, Louis’ body seems to slump and he sighs out in relief. Harry just chuckles, because he won’t be relaxing for very long.  

   He settles Louis’ thighs on either side of his hips, spreading them so he can have access to his most sensitive area. He slicks up four finger, knowing he’ll need the stretch and drops the bottle beside him. He traces one finger around his rim first, just to tease and waits until Louis whines, high in his throat and slides it in. He does it slowly and drags it in and out a few times before adding another. He scissors them and twists them. He finds the swollen bump inside of him and rubs over it in tight circles.

   “Oh, fuck!” Louis shouts and grips the sheets hard. Harry grins and leaves the spot to add another finger, spreading them. Louis hisses slightly. He usually never takes more than three and he wonders what four will feel like.

   Evidently, it feels pretty fucking good. Harry has tears running down Louis’ cheeks again as he relentlessly fucks him with those four fingers, spreading them on the way out, only to push them in fast. He has him begging and skin flushed a deep pink and eyes shining. He eventually lets up when Louis has done enough begging to please him.

   He reaches for the condom, slides it on and slicks his cock up with lube. He places a hand on Louis’ abdomen and steadily pushes his cock inside. He huffs out deeply when he feels the heat surround him. It’s not like he’s a virgin, but Louis is just so damn _tight._ He grips him like a vice and Harry moans, having to pause half-way to rest his head on Louis’ collarbone. He keeps pushing in and listens to Louis’ wrecked moans.

   “Are you alright, baby?” He asks. Louis think he sounds worried, but he can’t focus on that.

   “S-so full,” He sobs, instead. “So big, Harry.”

   The taller boy groans and grinds his hips into Louis’ when he’s fully inside. He continues to do that and rears back up when he’s caught his breath. He begins by rocking slowly, but when Louis begs for more, he quickens his pace. He makes his thrusts harder and deeper and grips Louis’ hair for balance and to speed up his movements. He pumps in and out repeatedly, only stopping to lift Louis’ hips and go deeper which makes the boy cry out in pleasure.

   He throws Louis’ legs over his shoulders and turns his head to bite down on his calf. He folds him practically in half as he bends over to kiss him, open-mouthed and raggedly.  

   “H-harry, I’m close,” he stutters and grips the boy’s curls, tugging on them roughly, which brings Harry even closer to the edge. He drops his legs to press closer to him and thrust faster, sloppier. He sees Louis’ hand go for his cock to bring him off, but Harry stops him, holding it down by his side.

   “You can come untouched,” Harry bites down on his neck when he whines. “I know you can. Come on, babe. Come for me.”

   Louis is shocked when the deep, honey-slow run of his voice pushes him over and he shoots over his abdomen and Harry’s. The other boy isn’t long behind when he tugs on his hair again and he comes into the condom, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck.

   A moment after, Harry scoffs. “You never told me your name, y’know.”

   “Louis.”

   “Pretty name for a pretty boy.”    

***

“I’m guessing you got some, ey?” Niall asks. “Was it Tom?”

   Louis laughs loudly. “No, it wasn’t him. You could’ve told me he has a boyfriend, by the way.”

   “What?” Niall chokes on his coffee. “Oh, well, who was it, then?” Louis grins and pulls his phone out, giddy at the new message on his phone from a certain _Hazza :)_

   “Guess.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading xx   
> Comments aren't unwelcome :P   
> You can find me on tumblr: support-the-ships


End file.
